


The Helldater

by Sent_Skyeward



Category: Helltaker (Video Game)
Genre: Coffee Shops, Other, tagging still eludes me whOopS, they do be sitting there drinking coffee though, two idiots on a couch what will they do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26290051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sent_Skyeward/pseuds/Sent_Skyeward
Summary: After a long and arduous journey into the depths and crevices of Hell, one individual emerges with the demon harem they've sought after; wouldn't you know it, it's you! Egads!Of course, what better way to treat your new demon waifus than to take them out places on """nice""" and """friendly""" dates that """won't go wrong in any way"""~May take some comment suggestions for this fic!---Current Chapter: 2In which a very reluctant Modeus keeps you from a planned outing.
Relationships: Modeus/Reader, Pandemonica/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. Coffee for Two...Or One

“I hope you’re not reneging on your claims about this place.” Pan articulated, doubtful of how sincere you actually were about the humble store, far strewn from the regular path. The density of people trekking these streets was far more dispersed compared to the bustling sprawl of town centres and shopping districts; the destination seemed not to wield much applause from her.

“Pandemonica, Pandemonica, it’s not going to hurt you.” You place your palm on her shoulder and give it a firm rub, smiling despite the lack of her visual attention, her glare trying to make out details of the inside of the building, with the refraction of the door’s pane making it difficult to make out fine details. Only blurry, muted browns, escaped.

The hands of apprehension still grasping, she gives the door a light push. Hanging inches above the frame, a few sharp metallic dinks and dinglings of a chime signal to the few guests that there were more on the way. Inside was a very homely and cozy atmosphere, but the thing that rushed outward first and foremost was the strong cocoa aroma; your shoulders dropped, and breath escaped, yet Pan turned to you with narrowed eyes.

“They pump these smells through the air to make you buy more coffee. I’m not falling for it.”

“Whether that’s true or not, you can blow the whistle another day. We’re here to relaaaax, not complain about subliminal messaging or what-be-it…” You huff at her, taking her hand in yours to pull her in if that’s what you must resort to, only letting go when she’s standing over a chair to place herself in. Her hand comes onto her other forearm and holds it, and for a second you ponder if you have to pull it out for Her Highness too. Alas, you meander to the barista.

“Espresso? Cappuccino? What are you thirsting for, Pan?”

“Make it black and make it snappy, I don’t have the patience for this environment.” She seethes from between her teeth. When you have a giant tail and horns, and you’re still dressing in full suit attire to a café, it’s not a revelation to have every pair of eyes in your direction. You did tell her to dress casual, but it was either your charisma or her patience running too low for that to come true.

“Alright!” You hastily cross-check the menu, and fumble around in your wallet to grab the cash you need. “Just a black coffee please, no more.”

The barista doesn’t speak a word back, fixated on the _literal demon_ sitting at one of the tables. A forceful tap of the counter was enough to get his attention back, luckily.

“A-Ah, black? Yes, that’s...And for you?”

“I’ll take a latte, extra sugar if you could!”

“Right…” The clerk stands strong to confirm your payment as genuine as you press a note and some coins over to him. He takes the money, deposits it, and pivots, gossiping to his peers about the ‘devil lady’ as soon as he thinks you’re out of earshot. It’s a temptation to hop over the counter and stop his mouthing off, but with a whole harem of demon lasses, sticking up for one means sticking up for the others, and not even the best statisticians could put a number to how much trouble that’d rope you into. You take your seat back at Pandemonica’s table, who in the meantime had taken the grand step (or lack thereof) to perch herself.

“Order is in, it shouldn’t take long. How about some small-talk in the downtime?” You give her a hearty grin, which she doesn’t take.

“Small talk... _Must_ we?” Her fingers prod at her glasses’ lenses, placing them neatly back over her irises.

“Hey, this is a treat, Pan. We’re alone, one-on-one, none of the roomies are here to disturb you. Let loose! There’s no pressure here. If you’re worried about all the staring, pretend it’s because you’re just smoking hot, and not because you’re a demon!” You chitter, lively. She taps her fingers on the hardwood and sighs, averted eyes engulfed in the tiled floor.

“That doesn’t help.” She mumbles.

You take her hand and clasp it between both of yours, and those droopy lids rise for the first time since you left the house.

“Relax, Pan. You’re not in Hell anymore, you don’t need to be so strict on yourself. You’re not sat at a desk anymore doing mindless work - that’s what the regular schmoes here are employed for - you’re in a real place, with real thinking people, and someone you care about, even though you sure as heck aren’t explicit about it~”

The words don’t have an effect on her -- not until she lets her body limp against the back of the chair, groaning. Her gaze floats up to the ceiling.

“You have a knack for saying all the right things, and I still don’t get how you do it. Cripes - okay - I’ll play along with you. What do you want to talk about?”

“And do you want to talk because you’re interested in conversation, or just because you’ve caved in?” You offer her a sly smirk, with enough vocal intonation for her to notice, despite her focus. That look of hers returns to your visage.

“Clever. If you play it like this, I think I’m interested. Go on, ask me something.”

For just a second, the corners of her mouth turn up at you. It might’ve been condescending, but it makes you damn happy for her to smile.

“Ever tried energy drinks, Pan?”

She scoffs. “Once, but only that once. Carbonated drinks are quite uncomfortable to my mouth, so I’m not into them. Coffee is a far healthier addiction anyway.”

“You can handle smouldering coffee but not a bit of fizz?”

“Are you a demon versed with the blistering heats of Hellfire everywhere you turn?”

“Fair point. Tangentially related, what was your home like there? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.” You put a pondering finger to a curious cheek.

“My quarters were less than satisfactory. Those in customer service in Hell are spared no convenience, we’re left with bare minimums and expected to get by on that. Think of a one-room apartment on this surface world, it’s about the same.”

“Ever talk to Lucifer about the poor standards?”

“Well, she’s not Hell’s monarch anymore, is she? She’s permanently with the rest of us now. I would’ve had a hundred questions to ask, but, telling her that now would be a misguided effort.”

“And who took over..?”

“I’m not aware and I haven’t a care. I prefer the new home. The other inhabitants can be noisy bums, the police are constantly at our door, so on, but it’s…”

“It’sssssss?” You place your hands on the table rim and push yourself forward, egging her on.

“Pressure me to say ‘nice’ and I’ll retract the compliment.” She stares you down.

“So you were going to say it was nice! Hah, I _knew_ you liked it!”

Pan puts a palm to her forehead. “Coffee can’t come soon enough.”

Speak of the devil! Or, speech from the devil, if that’s more appropriate. The same barista walks up skittishly to the table, drinks in hand. Your latte, he’s able to place down without a sweat, but it takes him a few seconds to put down Pandemonica’s drink in front of her, which isn’t helped by the demon’s thousand-yard staredown. The poor man can’t take it and, once his duty is done, he swiftly strides away.

“I’m glad they don’t write names on coffee cups everywhere. I was worried that it was a universal café thing up on the surface.”

“I had a hunch that was why you wouldn’t let me take you to a Starbucks. I’m not complaining, I think this place is nice too, and it’s definitely got less of the rabble going for it.”

“How hard is it to spell Pandemonica? Honest opinions, or your 1-10, one being easy.” She spins her coffee cup around on the table, feeling how hot the coffee is, unfazed even at the most absurd of temperatures.

“You can definitely spell it out by sound, but keep in mind that it’s not a common name. That, and seeing someone from the underworld can put a lot of pressure on the everyman. From the perspective of an unacquainted store clerk, I’d say a seven.”

“You make some fine arguments. Still, it’s put me off the chain.”

“Maybe give your name as just ‘Pan’ instead of ‘Pandemonica’? It’d make the process a lot easier.”

“Right -- no need to be so formal, I understand what you’re remarking about now. You’re right on that too.”

“Give it another shot, maybe?” A hopeful glisten sparkles in your eyes.

“Only if the coffee here is worse.”

Pan downs her coffee without remorse. In five seconds, a full cup is entirely empty. Her countenance shifts to one of malice, and she cackles out. To any observer this change might seem drastic, but you know her well enough to not be surprised.

“Heh, they make it good here. I’ll give them that.”

“See?! Cafés aren’t all that bad, Pan!”

A few happy faces are shared between the two of you. Again, it’s hard to tell how much her smile is influenced by genuine positivity, and not by hatred. You break the short silence.

“So, ah, I’ve been wanting to ask...About the, uhh…” You point at her horns, which had grown alongside her emotional transformation.

“I’m stimulated.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Ohhh?~”

“Coffee is a stimulant, dirtbag. Make another risqué joke at my expense and I’ll be taking a few of those ribs, got it?”

Nervously, you sputter, “Alright, a-alright! But how does that work? You get caffeinated, and your horns suddenly grow? I don’t follow.”

“The horns don’t ‘grow’, they come outta my head more when I’m energetic.”

“So they’re concealed...But what’s the point? Why does that happen?”

“Horns are sensory organs, technically,” Pan taps one of her horns, “think whiskers on a dumb fat cat or something, I think that’s close enough. When I’ve actually got some damn energy they come out, when I don’t, they’re subdued. Make sense?”

“Interesting!” You grant her a captivated look. “Is this universal to all demons?”

“Nahhhh. My circadian rhythm is just so effed all the time that it does that. Might happen to demons like me but it’s not for everyone.”

“And that links in to how horns whiten with age, I’m betting?”

“You bet right -- horns slowly grey and whiten over time and eventually become inert. A lotta oldies get really worried that they lose their sense in their horns but from what Luci’s told me, you get used to it.”

You track her eye motion to find it’s not on you, but rather on your latte, which you’ve been too caught up in conversation to drink.

“Don’t tell me you want to pilfer my coffee…”

“Tell you? Pfffft. Do, not tell.”

She snatches your coffee from your side of the table. This isn’t to go unpunished, she’s holding your coffee hostage!

“Hey, you take even a sip of that and you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“You stop me from my coffee and I’ll make your insides into your outsides.”

Ultimately, the coffee shop threats go nowhere, and the two of you stare absently at each other until Pan casually picks up the latte and drinks it in one. Score 2 for Pandemonica, score 0 for you.

“Next time you’re ordering yours out of your own money, and I’m ordering mine out of mine. Got it?”

“Whatever. I’m ready to blow this joint anyway.” Pan stands up from her chair, pushing it back. Rudely, she doesn’t seem too bothered in tucking it back under the table. You follow suit, however making sure to mind your manners.

“They clean up the cups too?” She nudges you a bit too harshly to be friendly.

“They clean up the cups too.”

She chuckles. “Liberating, having other people do my dirty work. I love this place. Screw this place by the way, we’re leaving.”

“You said, Pan, you said.”

You link arms with Pandemonica, and your hands naturally come together as a continuation of the motion. Whatever sadistic thoughts are in her mind, it’s distracting her from the fact that you’re holding hands exiting a coffee shop, and you look like cheesy lovers doing it. You wave the barista goodbye with a smile, considering that your apology tip for the cranky demon gal you have by your side. Before you two are out of the door though, Pan gives one last look at the coffee made by this worker, to the man behind the counter, her grin widening into an evil smile.

“ **Sleep tight~** ”

The barista cowers behind his protective little counter wall, and Pan smirks at a job well done. The chime dangles and clinks as the door opens and shuts again, and like you two were never there, the café returns to relative normalcy.


	2. Half a Hundred Stupid Shades

Shivering hands grasp at your own, and her voice quivers, chords trilling with intense emotion. She’s at her breaking point. Tears roll down her face, her form pressed against yours, and with exasperation she sputters out:

“Pleaaaaaseeeee...Let’s just stay insii~iide…”

A sigh escapes your lips. You had this outing planned for three weeks and you weren’t going to let her distaste of the rainy weather stop you from taking her out somewhere. Reluctantly, you pass her your umbrella, holding it with the chivalry of a fallen knight in outstretched palms like a rustic blade.

“If you’re so concerned about going outside in the rain, you can take it, Modeus. I’ll go without it.”

Hot air eludes Modeus’ face, a bashful pose seceding her crying but moments ago. Her eyelids flutter lovingly at you.

“Why have the umbrella when I can have  _ you?~ _ ”

A pinch of your brow is quick to signal that the comment was both cheesy and completely unnecessary. Dealing with a lustful demon was, for sure, a handful, true twice over for one fawning over you in particular. All conversations between the two of you eventually converged into lewd anecdotes and an invaded personal space, mannerisms infused with the energy of a thousand bad romance fics. Maybe it would be best to wean her off the literature someday.

“Look, it’s been three quarters of an hour and we’re at the door, and twenty minutes of that was spent prying you out of bed with Justice. Keep this up and we’ll miss it entirely.”

“Can’t we just watch it at hoooome..?” Modeus shamelessly pleads, grappling at your arms. Patience sneaks between the cracks in your fingers and you decide to lean the umbrella back up against the wall. Her face lightens.

“Fine, fine, okay, we’ll watch something here. But next time I take you out, it’s a guarantee, no matter the weather. I don’t care if it’s hailing literal boulders, got it?”

“Alrii~iight!” Despite your hard bargain, she finds the situation funny enough to warrant a giggle. Mischievousness is far removed from what you expected with her, yet it’s not too far removed from persuasiveness, and by jove she would do anything to spend time together at your abode, probably with the hope it would escalate into something more. You usher her along to the living room and tell her to sit down, of which she obliges with the utmost of loyalty.

“You can pick out the movie, I’ll set up the arrangements. Pretty sure I have some unpopped popcorn kernels somewhere, and I’m fine to share, but is there anything else you’d want?”

A few seconds of blank staring as you stand in the doorframe. You make sure to append your statement before her grinning goes out of control.

“And  _ no innuendos _ . Do not say ‘you’ or mention any of my body parts. Please.”

Modeus prods her fingers together, looking up at you from the couch. “Can you maybe bring me a few blankets?”

“Oh, sure! I’ll grab a few. Thanks for the request. Want a warm drink too?”

She nods enthusiastically, joy on her face, probably from the little bit of praise you threw her way. Nevertheless, you flash her a thumbs up and depart for your date-making duties; simultaneously to the passive drink heating, you make sure to journey upstairs and grab the required quantity of blankets (see also: all the blankets in the house), attempting not to trip over Cerberus thrice in the process. On the downwards trip towards the kitchen, you haphazardly toss the blanket pile into the living room, hoping it landed square onto the sitting area where the lusty lady lay.

It took some patient mulling over the marble counter before the drinks were adequate; they weren’t magnum opera, but you took pride that, even through thick and thin, and all the drained sanity at the behest of the demons, you were still able to make some decent hot choc. Wrapping fingers into handle-holes, you escort the freshly steaming drinks back into the living room.

Upon arrival, you found a creature, wrapped up tightly in about seven or eight layers of pure soft energy, appearing to be a fluffy slug with a barely visible head; meandering towards the front of the couch, however, revealed it was naught but a Taco Modeus™, of which had decided to roll itself up in every single covering it was given. Admittedly, it looked very comfy, but hogging all the blankets wasn’t going to justify any goodwill. You place her drink down on the table and keep yours in hand as you seat.

“Having fun there, Mode?” You raise an inquisitive eyebrow at her. She giggles nervously.

“I-It’s nice and soft, but...I can’t exactly get out…”

“Oooof course.” You want to at least revel in the situation for a while, so you prop her up against the couch to see, but don’t release her from her woolly captivity. Despite this, she holds herself to a good degree of lightheartedness, more excited for the movie to start than concerned about being constricted from the neck down.

“It’s in the player!” She chirps.

“What’s the movie?”

“A secret!”

Oh, great. You’re not going to get up to check which box she’s pilfered the disc from, so you reluctantly lean forward to press the “on” button on the DVD player with your toe, a true show of laziness for the wrapped eyewitness beside you. The boot-up sounds, the machine whirrs, then it’s a boring fifty seconds of corporate logos that a very sin-opposed individual on the internet would drag through hot coals, before you can get to the start screen, and…

...silence. A very disappointed silence. Modeus looks off to the side, cheeks tinted. You clear your throat.

“50 Shades?  _ Really? _ I...I mean, I should’ve seen something like this coming, but do you expect me to sit here with you watching borderline pornography?”

“Well, I’d like to, if you’d be okay with…” ...her sentence stops in its tracks as the two proverbial Lego pieces click in her head.

“...why do you have this sort of movie?”

You tug at your collar, quick to realize that this is the perfect leverage that she has against you: what are you even meant to say? No truths or excuses are going to exempt you from the cardinal sin of owning a 50 Shades of Grey DVD, and even choosing to stay silent is going to make you look super suspicious. Frankly, you don’t even remember how you got it. You groan.

“Let’s...Not talk about it, okay?” Gently, you mumble, hoping that she’ll give you the pass. Alas, the hope is horribly misplaced.

“You got up to all sorts of  _ naughty _ things before the harem, didn’t you?~”

“That’s not important here, Modeus. I’m really not bothered at this point, just calm down and drink your chocolate before it goes cold.”

“But…”

You sigh, once more registering that she’s a Taco Modeus™. You place your cup down and pick up hers, and bring it to her lips in the most non-seductive manner you reckon possible. She happily sips from the mug, the absurdity of the situation finally seeping into your skin.

“This is the most ridiculous date ever…”

Modeus spits out hot chocolate all over you, eyes agape. Of course, more things were entitled to go wrong.

“We’re on a  **date?!** ” She shouts, seemingly unaware until the word was spoken. You try not to get upset at the fact that your attire has been dirtied to a scalding hot hickory-brown colour.

“You weren’t able to infer?! I intended to take you out to the movies, how is that  _ not _ a date? I thought you’d be in-tune with that by now?”

“You kinky debauchee..~” Her seductive breath flows towards you, brimming with heat.

“Dates aren’t fetishistic! I wanted to take you out somewhere, and we still ended up at home, and all we’re doing is bickering now anyway, I’m not being…”

Oh, she isn’t even listening now, gloating like she just caught you in the act, unrolling herself from the blankets. You can’t do much but watch as she frees herself, then crawls across the couch, and onto your lap, draping her fingers over your neck.

“Taking me to the cinema to watch something raunchy, to get me in the mood...And then you’d bring me back home, and wrap your hands around me…”

Before this goes too far, you reach a hand out to her side to push her off, and your palm grazes her hips--

“A-Ahhh!~<3”

Modeus goes limp, and falls backwards onto the small wooden table, breaking it in twain. From just a single touch, she falters, and passes out, and you’re not sure whether to be more concerned about her physical safety, or about how pent-up she must’ve felt to go unconscious at barely any sort of contact.

You just...Kinda sit there for a minute, unsure how to react to something as crazy as this.

“Yo. I heard something break, whodunnit this time?” A very unbothered Justice strolls in, pulling down her sunglasses as if she was surveying the scene, despite her inability to.

“Uhh...Modeus, but it’s complicated.” You stammer a little.

“Were you two being saucy down here?”

“N-No, no...She may or may not have fainted onto the table, though.”

“Oh, cool.” Justice readjusts her fingerless gloves and walks in. Like it was nothing, she locates Modeus, the Unconscious Demon, and slings her over her shoulder like a rucksack.

“What’re you doing?” You inquire.

“She’s unconscious, so either bringing her to bed, or tying her to a wooden pole and giving everyone permanent markers. I’ll think about it. Peace!”

The two depart, leaving you with your thoughts again.

Yeah, you’re definitely burning that DVD when you get the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was in writing purgatory for a while, mainly because college came back into effect for me. I still have a lot of time to focus on writing, but it may be a little scattered for now.
> 
> I'm not the most sure on how this chapter came out. I don't personally think it was as strong as the last chapter and I may write another thing with Modeus in the future to compromise, but either way, I hope you enjoyed reading it! ^U^

**Author's Note:**

> First foray into another new fandom! Hope everything is up to par, and I'm actually gonna leave a footnote here for the people who read my other works as well as this one.
> 
> Sorry for another absence, is all I have to say. Life has been wild in quarantine, and while you'd expect that to mean more writing, a lot of major life events have hit me, as well as writer's block, and a general issue with getting started with it. I can't promise consistency in my writing, or in updates, but I am just happy to spread things that I enjoy writing to others who enjoy reading it! It's a simple passion of mine.
> 
> Either way, sob stories over, I hope you enjoyed reading! As stated in the summary, I'll consider taking comment requests if anyone wants any sort of concept done. Keep in mind I plan to keep this SFW (hopefully) and keep swearing to the minimum (also hopefully) but I'll also consider making an NSFW collection of fics too if there's demand for it.
> 
> Love you guys! ^U^ <3


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